


Did you get enough love, my little dove?

by denisiya



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Sleepy Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25153219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denisiya/pseuds/denisiya
Summary: Thomas enjoys being kissed everywhere.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis
Comments: 9
Kudos: 74





	Did you get enough love, my little dove?

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeeeeeyyyyy, I'm not a native speaker and I don't have a beta, so sorry for any mistakes.  
> Also, I wasn't sure if it's teen or mature, but Thomas is naked here, so Idk, just in case. It's a part of their night together with random situations and thoughts.  
> The title is from the "Fourth of July" by Sufjan Stevens.  
> Enjoy! :*

“I’m going to kiss you from head to toe,” Richard says.

They’re sitting on the bed in his flat, that is far away from the Palace. They just had a few sips of wine, while they were playing some silly games. Or, maybe, a little more than a few sips. 

“Well, it’s a wine talking,” Thomas replies.

“No, it’s not.”

They both laugh, not quite understanding why. Richard puts his cards on the bedside table and moves closer. His hand is now wandering somewhere on Thomas’ back, their knees are touching, bare feet slightly pushing each other. Despite everything, Thomas sees no problem in continuing drinking from the bottle, as if he doesn’t notice such attention. Although, the other man’s hands are already fumbling with the buttons of his vest.

“I’d prefer something more tonight,” he mumbles in his bottle.

“If you’re planning to empty this one by yourself, I doubt you’ll be able to do something more,” Richard says and puts the bottle away. He carefully pushes Thomas, so they’re now lying and trying to put everything off. It’s the first evening of their little holiday, and it’s been a long working day for both of them, so they are very lazy even in undressing each other.

Now, when they are halfway through, wearing only their underwears, they’re just kissing and gasping, wishing for these  _ bloody  _ clothes to be able to disappear itself. 

“No-no-no,” Richard whispers, as he feels his undershirt sliding up.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asks and sits upright. He looks lost.

“Nothing,” he kisses him, “but I meant what I’ve said,” kisses him again, “it’s about you now, not me.” He quickly gets Thomas out of his underwear.

“But I want you,” he moans tragically.

“You’ll get me. Just after this.”

So Thomas has no choice, but to obey willingly.

***

Richard’s been thinking about this idea for a long time, actually. The more they were getting closer, the more new things they discovered in each other. 

They shared their stories a lot, but he’s learnt plenty of details about this man from Downton’s workers. Miss Baxter has accidentally told him about Thomas’ family once: nothing unpredictable, truth to be told. Parents, who couldn’t accept him, and put all the effort in his sister; no Christmas cards, no letters at all. Mrs Hughes was the one who told Richard the birthday date. It has also turned out, that nobody, except her, Mr Carson and Miss Baxter knew the date. Fortunately, Mrs Hughes has been always making little gifts for him, but it’s still sad that nobody was interested. Mrs Bates told Richard about Thomas’ period of depression, but that was when he’d asked her. 

And during all of those conversations, he couldn’t think of anything, but fate. Why couldn’t they meet earlier? He wished he was there for Thomas when he needed somebody the most. 

But they have each other now.

God, they have each other.

***

Thomas is lying on his stomach, arms in line with his body, his left cheek is comfortably settled on the pillow, and he sees Richard looking at him. His hand is caressing his thigh, but he looks like he’s miles away.

“I like it slow,” he murmurs, ”but do you want me to have a nap down here?”

Richard doesn’t change his facial expression, and he still looks at Thomas, but now he’s drawing lines on his shoulders. He puts his left leg over Thomas’ right one, so he’s covering half of his body with himself. One kiss at the temple, then to the cheekbone, the whole area of his cheek, his nose, corner of his mouth. The slightly wet path to his shoulders. He leans and continues the path on the muscles of Thomas’ left arm.

“Blimey,” he gasps, “you meant what you’ve said.”

He has no idea if it’s too much or if it’s too childish for them, he only knows that he  _ bloody  _ enjoys it already. He doesn’t know what is so charming about it, but he doesn’t mind the delay of “something more” now. When Richard’s lips reach the middle of his back, he feels that it’s even more intimate than the love-making. It’s more innocent, has less sexual context. Maybe, it _ is _ a love-making. But…

“Why are you doing this?” he asks, but it’s not ruining the mood, no, he asks very gently and softly.

“We’re lovers,” Richard pronounces every letter as slowly as he can, he doesn’t even open his eyes.

“Yeah, but,” Thomas doesn’t open his eyes either, “why are you doing  _ this _ ?”

Now it’s the hand on his back instead of lips as if to remember the place, where Richard's stopped. His breath is on Thomas’ cheek, eyelashes touching his temple.

“That’s what lovers do, they make each other feel good. Are you feeling good?”

“Very nice, in fact.”

It’s not even a proper dialogue, they are both quite sleepy, ready to doze off at any moment, but everything is so  _ perfect _ , there are no noises outside at all (what’s time is it, God). The dim light of the small lamp, just enough to see each other, but nothing else.

And now lips are on the small of his back; he’s not quite sure if it’s a good time for  _ excitement _ , and he doesn’t care, because that feels so nice. He thinks, he might even start purring. A grown man, purring. Fascinating.

***

Thomas Barrow - how would you describe him? Anything, but not shy, Richard supposes. But it seems, that presents can really touch him. “You shouldn’t have.”, “must be expensive.”, “you shouldn’t have worried so much!” - and he knows, it’s not just manners. 

Every time, they’re together, Richard is the first to initiate physical contact, and it’s not because he’s the only one who wants it (Thomas accepts and continues very eagerly). 

And have you ever seen his red face, when someone compliments him? 

This man deserves all of this and even more, but he behaves like he’s not. It’s such a big world’s mistake, people’s misunderstanding. It’s all so wrong, Thomas Barrow is one of the best things that have ever happened to him.

He will prove it to him somehow. And then, one day, Thomas Barrow will learn to love himself again. Well, of course, he still loves himself, yes, but the universe’s tried to show him that he shouldn’t. It made him rethink that, and now Richard will make him rethink that again.

***

He kisses his wrists and his blighty, but tries not to stay there for too long, he wouldn’t want to make it uncomfortable. So he kisses these spots equally gently and slowly as all other places like there’s no difference, and he knows, that there is really no difference, because all these parts belong to Thomas.

He moves down, now he is at the back of his thighs. Thomas has firm thighs, so it’s a big area to kiss, which is a  _ bliss. _ Does he do a lot of sports? It’s not like butler has time for that, but his body is too good for a permanent sitting position.

“What kind of sports do you do?”. He hears the mattress squeaking under a slightly shifting Thomas.

“What makes you think, I do any sport at all,” he sounds more awaken, so it must have been an unexpected question.

“My eyes and hands. You look fit, and your skin is very smooth.”

He caresses Thomas’ back, massaging it.

“Well, I refuse Mrs Patmore’s biscuits, that’s all.” Richard gives him a look, waiting for the rest of it. “Okay, it’s not very hard to get up twenty minutes earlier and do a few exercises.”

“I don’t believe that twenty minutes per day can give any results.”

“It’s more than that,” Thomas says, as he relaxes under firm squeezes of his back, ”I never go by bus; when I’m in my pantry, and my task is just to read something or think, I do it, walking around, or just standing: anything to avoid constant sitting on my chair. When I can’t fall asleep, I do exercises right in my bed, which helps, by the way, because I’m getting tired and sleeping well. And I help our lads with lifting luggage when nobody sees. I’m butler, after all.”

“You’re great butler, Mr Barrow,” Richard says, breathing and feeling the other man’s scent.

“I know. So, how can you see, a little effort works miracles,” and then he lets out a quiet moan and crosses his hands under the pillow. “Mmh, I do this for you.” And then Richard stops for a second.

“For me?”

“No, for Mr Molesley.”

“Bugger,” he chuckles. “But, seriously, you know, you don’t have to do this for me, right?”

“Hypocrite,” Thomas says and lightly pushes Richard - or it’s a pillow? - with his right leg. “You admire my body.”

“I never said I didn’t. I only mean to say, that I will admire any shape your body will take,” he leans in, so he lies on Thomas’ legs now. “But I think you’re doing the right thing. I like the idea of you being healthy, I’m really glad, you’re taking care of yourself.” Somehow Thomas manages to take Richard’s hand, that is on his back, and kiss it. 

“And don’t think you’ll get away. What sport do  _ you  _ do?” he asks. Richard only smiles.

“Does dressing the King count?”

“No.”

“Then I’m an old sack of potatoes, I’m afraid.”

“Right, but there’s one thing: you look like a bloody Apollo,” he tries to kick him with his leg again and he doesn’t miss it this time, “get on with it, I know, you do something.”

“Alright, alright,” he is laughing loudly, trying to catch Thomas’ leg, “I run every other day. The time during and after luncheon is the least busy for me, I quickly do my part of the task and slip away. Sometimes Miller does everything if he is in a good mood.”

“I’m impressed, Mr Ellis. My poor lungs wouldn’t make it, I suppose, so you deserve all my respect.” 

“We’re quite a pair,” and he finally continues kissing. He’s not sure, if he felt strange twitch or not, as if something bothered Thomas, or, maybe, he didn’t like the phrase. But he relaxes not long after that and hums:

“We are.” 

***

Richard closes his door and checks the corridor. He’s not ashamed of himself, he’s just about to do some sport, after all. But he wouldn’t like his co-workers to see him in this silly jogging clothes and old sneakers. 

Once he’s on the place, he starts a little warm-up. 

He’s glad, his family’s made it a habit, so he absolutely likes running and doing activities in general. He has a beautiful and healthy body, and it’s way better than a lot of people his age have. 

He tries not to think about Thomas in moments like that, because he secretly thinks, that he’s doing the sport better that way. And he doesn’t want to think, that he’s doing it for Thomas, because he wouldn’t like Thomas to do the same for him. They are humans, it’s normal to have some “flaws”, besides, they’re not that young anymore…

But maybe it’s not bad if thoughts of someone motivate you? You’re capable of a lot of things when you’re in love. Thomas deserves to have a handsome partner, too. 

He thinks about Thomas a lot this time. And runs two miles more than usual.

***

The ankle is a strange spot for the kiss, but Thomas’ smile makes Richard think, that kisses are welcomed everywhere.

Thomas is on his back now, his arms are supposed to be in line with his body again, but they either lie on his stomach or try to reach Richard. His eyes are closed, hair is ruffled, cheeks are as red as his lips. Chest slowly raises and falls. And Richard sees something, he’s never noticed before.

“You have a birthmark.”

There is a small white spot on Thomas’ left calf. It’s barely noticeable, considering his milky-white skin, but the contour is clear, and it looks like a blurry flower. The flower is symmetrical and, oh, so charming. How could he not notice it before?

“Ah, this. Nearly forgot.”

Richard can’t stop smiling. He sits upright and stretches his right leg towards Thomas, rolling up the edge of his underwear (he really should, probably, put it off already). 

“Wow.”

Thomas reaches for Richard’s right calf, touching the almost identical light spot on his skin there. It’s just a little bigger but less blurry than his own birthmark. 

“Quite a pair, huh?” he repeats Richard’s words.

“We are,” and they’re kissing. But then Richard, of course, returns to his gentle tour of his partner’s calves, knees, thighs...

*** 

Richard’s going to the “Steve’s” shop, that is not far away from the Palace, to buy a new hair pomade and soap. He chooses to go through the park to enjoy a little walk and meets the local gardener, going in the opposite direction.

“Good day, Mr Murray,” he says and sees the basket in the man’s hands, “oh, what are these?”

“Mr Ellis, good to see you! I’ve just picked these for Lady Hooper, you can have a look,” Mr Murray answers and raises the basket with beautiful red roses. There are about fifteen roses if he is correct. Richard leans in a bit to smell that fresh aroma, breathes in deeply and breathes out, smiling.

“Great job, I must say. I wish I could make something like this with my own hands,” and he means it. Being able to create such beauty - sounds magical. Roses are strangely beautiful and attractive, even if they have thorns as if to protect their beauty.  _ Doesn’t it remind him of something… or somebody? _

“Mr Murray, can I take one,” he asks sooner than he truly observes this idea, “please?”

“Oh, of course, you can,” the man answers and takes one flower from his basket. He closes his eyes, smells it and then gives it to Richard, “I picked more than needed anyway.”

He plucks the petals of his rose this evening and carefully puts them between the sheets of his old finished diary.  _ Herbariums work like that, right? _

They are ready when the time comes, so Richard writes a romantic letter and puts some dried red petals in the envelope. Fortunately, the envelope arrives at the Downton Abbey right on Valentine’s day. 

*** 

“Do you think I’m too hairy?”

“I wouldn’t say “too” hairy, no.”

Richard kisses his stomach and draws circles on his chest. It is hairy and he genuinely likes it. 

“I’ve always felt like a beast,” Thomas says and strokes Richard’s neck with his finger. “My first chest hair grew up when I was thirteen, it seemed to be so black. My classmates were dreaming about that, but I thought it was too much.”

“I have a lot of chest hair, too.”

“Yours is light and soft.”

“And yours is dark and curly, soft, too; and this is very manly and attractive as for me,” he murmurs and touches the nipple with his lips. He feels Thomas’ arms and legs wrapping around him. Hands are stroking his back, feet are resting on his calves. Richard grins and begins to shower his chest with kisses, which makes Thomas laugh for some reason.

“What?”

“I suspect, my skin has a special taste,” he tells between his giggles.

“I haven’t tried to bite off a piece, have I?”

“But you like it.”

“Very much,” Richard says and kisses his collarbone, paying attention to the taste this time.

“What do I taste like?” Thomas asks and lifts his head to look him in the eyes. “The pleasure on your face tells me that I’m Mrs Ellis’ apple pie and no less.”

“I don’t think so, you are salty,” he answers, after licking Thomas’ neck once, “but you’re better than the pie.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I’d compare you with caramel ice cream with peanuts.”

“I like the vanilla one,” Thomas says, takes Richard’s hand and presses his lips and tongue to his palm. “You taste like a..”

“Like what?”

“Like a human. Salty skin, you know, not a dessert, really, and-

Richard punches him with a pillow and ruffles Thomas’ hair even more. However, his hands are slipping under his back and he presses his lips to Thomas’ earlobe.

“I don’t deserve such attacks, Mr Ellis,” he says and embraces other mean tightly. “And I was going to say that you taste better than vanilla ice cream.”

“You like nothing more than vanilla ice cream,” he kisses the line of his jaw.

“Yeah, but I like you the same.” Thomas pulls Richard just a little, just to see his face, and buries his hand in his hair.

“But what if you had to make a choice?” Richard can’t help himself but kiss Thomas without letting him answer. 

“I’d choose you,” Thomas says as he’s pulling away and grabbing Richard’s undershirt, ”and ask you to buy me vanilla ice cream,” pulls it up from the man’s torso, “maybe, I’d buy you one caramel ball.” 

And then they are kissing again.

***

They go and buy ice cream the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> My babies :3


End file.
